We knew we’d be meeting old friends, fellow fans of Fanjeaux, here and with a national celebration approaching, the temptation to arrange a 60th jubilee party for La Reine proved irresistible. Very graciously, we thought, Ma’am accepted our invitation to attend. She probably realized that the weather in the south of France on the first Sunday in June would be likely to be better than that in London. Very wise, Ma’am, if I may make so bold.

[Naturally, for security reasons, faces have been obscured on the following pictures.]

Tentative arrangements made, Francine set about a few advanced preparations before we set sail in the form of some red, white and blue bunting. Here is an example of it. Although these particular bunting flags may look a little like chopped up pairs of Francine’s knickers, I can assure readers that none of Francine’s knickers, at least, none that I’ve seen, are actually large enough to make flags. No expense spared for such an auspicious occasion, these are of specially purchased material. Francine also spotted an appropriately patriotic plasticized table cloth to guard against any royal red wine spillages. Good thinking!

A few hours before our guest of honour arrived, I fired up the trusty travelling Weber grill and put on a shoulder of lamb, expertly boned and rolled with a little local wild rosemary by Francine. I’d really wanted to cook a Crown Roast – seemed particularly appropriate – but the lid of the travelling Weber isn’t quite tall enough to accommodate one of those so a boned and rolled shoulder it was. With the meat taken care of, the reception committee had time to string up some flags in the banqueting hall to make Ma’am feel at home.

Once the food was well under way, our guest of honour finally arrived and here we see yours truly, Franco, welcoming her warmly with a friendly hug. Meanwhile, Francine couldn’t resist trying on the temporarily discarded royal headgear, though she looked a little uncomfortable doing so. Maybe her hair didn’t fit underneath well enough? Though the Crown Roast proved impossible, we had managed to acquire some crème de cassis and Spanish cava to make Kir Royale to toast our esteemed guest’s arrival. (No worries, Ma’am didn’t spot the cheaper Champagne substitute.)

With the Welsh dragon decorating the banqueting table in honour of Ma’am’s number one son, the crown did the rounds again during the celebratory meal itself and Ma’am commented on the fact that she had found our choice of bag-in-box Corbières rouge to be a refreshing change from the cases of Chateaux Laffite, to which one’s royal palate was constantly subjected but to which it had become a little jaded. How appreciative of her.

“First impressions?”, I hear you say. “You’ve been here lots, haven’t you?”

Well, yes, you’re quite right, we have. What I mean is first impressions this year. Last year, what I thought of as a dark cloud was hanging over the lake at Fanjeaux. The dark cloud in question was fish; the lake was stocked with enormous Grass Carp to eat the weed and was also being used for intensive farming of Koi Carp, present in their thousands. The effect of the fish appeared to add up to very bad news for what had previously been an extremely rich Odonata habitat. We have personally counted 17 species here and some of the damselflies were present in very large numbers. In September last year, the richness of the Odo population seemed to have been badly effected with numbers down, both of species and of individuals. I was keen to see what the situation would be like this year.

Following a 6½-hour journey from Bellebouche, nearly all of which was on easy going autoroute, we arrived yesterday in time to get set up and grill one of those splendid French magret de canard [duck breast] jobs for dinner. I think I could almost live on those.

After a partial night of digestion and rest, Francine crawled out of Guillaume before sunrise armed with camera and tripod intent on capturing what she hoped would be clear first light on the neighbouring village of Fenouillet-du-Razès. Franco sensibly remained au lit [in bed].

Once the morning had actually dawned bright and sunny and with the necessary quota of caffeine coursing through my veins, I was ready to meet the world and go and scan the lake for wildlife and my first impressions.

To cut a long story short, Odo-wise, things are actually better than I feared they might be. I counted nine species:

• Broad-bodied Chaser (Libellula depressa)
• Black-tailed Skimmer (Orthetrum cancellatum)
• White-tailed Skimmer (Orthetrum albistylum)
• Western Clubtail (Gomphus pulchellus)
• Emperor Dragonfly (1) (Anax imperator)
• Red-veined Darter (Sympetrum fonscolombii)
• Common Blue Damselfly (Enallagma cyathigerum)
• Blue-tailed Damselfly (Ischnura elegans)
• Western Demoiselle (1 probable) (Calopteryx xanthosotoma)

Nine species is more or less half of what we have previously seen here two things must be remembered. Firstly, we are here several weeks earlier than ever before and not far into the flight season, particularly this year which got off to an appalling start courtesy of a dreadful spell of weather during the whole of April for both the UK and France. Secondly, several of the historically present species have not yet begun their flight season.

I’m not completely comforted, however. The three damselfly species above were, I believe, present in noticeably reduced numbers. Damsels generally are fond of ovipositing on floating vegetation, which has pretty much been eradicated by the nuclear-submarine-sized Grass Carp. I haven’t yet seen a single Dainty Damselfly (Coenagrion scitulum), which has formerly been prolific here but which is said to favour:

Sunny, still, sometimes slow-flowing waters with rich aquatic vegetation …

Nor have I seen a Small Red-eyed Damselfly which;

Favours eutrophic, standing water clogged with aquatic vegetation …

We should be in the flight season of both these species but there simply isn’t much/any vegetation left.

We are certainly ahead of the flight seasons of a few other suspects, one or two of which may emerge during our stay assuming the weather remains favourable. If it doesn’t, we may not emerge, either. 🙂

We are due at Fanjeaux on Friday 1st June so we’ve been thinking about just how we’re going to get there. It’s possible in one hit but it would be a very long day, probably over nine hours driving. Additionally, it would be a tiring 100mls/160kms cross-country before we got to the autoroute south. So, since the forecast is for the brilliant weather we’ve been enjoying at Luché-Pringé to break up, we decided to head south in two stages and hit Fanjeaux a day early, pausing overnight near the autoroute after the cross-country section. I confess to a vested interest in that our pause would place us in the Parc Naturel Régional de la Brenne, an excellent wildlife habitat filled with lakes of various sizes including the Étang de Bellebouche, where there is a very pleasant campsite, so we wouldn’t have to go searching for where to stay, either. 🙂

Good decision. Much as I quite enjoying towing, after a morning of winding through relatively minor roads dotted with villages and speed limits, I was beginning to feel like a rest. Fortunately we arrived at Bellebouche at about 12:10 PM, just before the accueil [reception] closed at 12:30 PM for lunch. We pitched up and settled down to lunch ourselves before heading off to search a couple of small fishing lakes on site to see what we could find.

Quite soon into our wander, somebody settled in the tall grass beside me. In my haste I fluffed my first attempt at a shot but got a second before it disappeared, never to be seen again. I realized it was an Emerald (Lestes) of one sort or another but it didn’t look quite like those I’ve seen before. I’ll have to get my suspicions confirmed but I’m pretty sure this character is a female Southern Emerald Damselfly (Lestes barbarus), a new Odo for our catalogue.

The weather forecast proved to be accurate; what started out as a walk in the sun became a walk under threatening clouds. Francine certainly thought her washing was under threat and returned to rescue it, just in case, leaving me to continue unaccompanied.

Some female dragonflies seem to me to prove elusive. Whereas males tend to defend their claim to a territory and be relatively easy to find, the females of the species seem to hide elsewhere until they are ready to mate (or, as Francine would have it, until they fancy a shag). One species like this is the Scarce Chaser (Libellula fulva), of which I’ve seen countless males but as yet not a single female. Another of my female bêtes noires has been the White-tailed Skimmer. As the sky continued to darken I very nearly didn’t bother searching the far end of the second small lake but I’m delighted I persevered. On my way back there she was, low down in some grass stems beside the lake, my first female White-tailed Skimmer (Orthetrum albistylum). Isn’t she lovely?

The rain began.

I think the campsite at Luché-Pringé is becoming one of my favourites. Of course, the weather plays a vital role, as it does anywhere, and here, we’ve been lucky – the sun has shone. This site, though, seems to have everything we want. Luché-Pringé is a classic French village/small town complete with a church whose bells chime the hours and half hours to complete the French atmosphere. Being on the edge of a village, there is a good boulanger, a butcher and a cash machine a short walk away for life’s essentials. It is also within easy reach of a couple of supermarkets in the two larger towns of Le Lude and La Fleche only about 10 mls/16 kms distant, so all supplies including relatively reasonably priced fuel, are readily accessible. [Ed: it comes to something when we regard €1.36 per litre for fuel as reasonably priced!]

The campsite is situated directly on the banks of Le Loir river – well direct other than for a public footpath running immediately beside the river. Beside the site and river are large meadows which appear to be unused except, perhaps, to be cut for hay. The river itself is non-navigable so there is no disturbance due to the wakes of noisy river craft. The quiet river and fallow fields add up to a haven for wildlife of which the campsite is essentially just an extension. Bags of interest for the likes of Franco and Francine. Guillaume very much likes being parked here, too. 😉

One of my main interests here is the 10 or so species of dragonfly that can be seen along the banks of the river but there are other critters to be seen, too. Early on in the day I got a rare chance to sneak close enough to a Green Woodpecker (Picus viridis) for a recognisable shot, even if it kept its tail hidden in the grass of the campsite.

Later, while we were out wandering the banks in search of our usual quarry, Odos, what I can only describe as a vividly green lizard sat head-down on a fence post beside one of those fallow fields that I mentioned. I say, “only describe as” because I have no idea what particular lizard this might be, though, given a book on European reptiles, I’d have thought it might be relatively easy to identify. It, too, kept its tail hidden before scarpering completely.

Not all the green tails of the day remained hidden, however. Among the 10 species of Odonata were literally swarms of Banded Demoiselles (Calopteryx splendens), sometimes rather romantically referred to as riverside butterflies, flitting back and forth along the bank. The frantic flitting is, of course, for one of two reasons, either males in a territorial spat or a male in pursuit of a female. Eventually an unpursued female posed advantageously on a seed head offering a much more artistic picture than had the earlier individuals.

A final few moments of excitement occurred as we were setting about our evening barbecue. While it was firing up – yes, we still use real charcoal – we both spotted some movement in the grass just in front of it. Confused at first, we eventually realized it was some sort of moth. Its wings were still not fully inflated. It had just emerged from its pupal case which was about 3cms long, still half buried in the ground and decidedly gooey. Despite this, Francine grabbed it so we could snap it for the record. The poor moth seemed to be missing two legs but, with wings now fully inflated, it eventually flew off so we’re hopeful that it might fulfil its mission in life, reproduction.

We may be folk of leisure these days but we are normally awake early and normally up and about reasonably early. This morning we awoke even earlier than usual and so, rather than sit at home twiddling our thumbs waiting to leave for the ferry, we set about our last minute packing and hit the road to Dover at 6:30 AM. The journey was a breeze and hit the ferry port at about 9:15 AM after topping up with fuel. My heart skipped a beat as we saw a man controlling two enormously long lines of lorries/trucks waiting to check in; there must have been 30+ in each line. We’ve been stuck behind articulated lorries before but now, fortunately a car lane had been kept clear and we sailed through to be put on the 10:15 AM sailing, almost 2 hours ahead of our booked crossing. Excellent! 🙂

On our last trip, arriving in Normandy at 5:30 PM, we had luckily snagged the very last pitch at our favourite Neufchâtel-en-Bray campsite. Too close for comfort. Originally expecting a similar arrival time, I’d used my best French to send an email asking for reservation this time. With our earlier crossing, we arrived at 3:30 PM so it turned out to be unnecessary but it was comforting to note that it had worked; we were expected, albeit two hours later.

Neufchâtel-en-Bray has a plan d’eau [lake] which we’ve never investigated but, with our early arrival, we now had time to do so before hitting the supermarché for some supplies.  There were actually two lakes, the smaller of which looked like a splendid wildlife habitat with reeds, shallow marshy edges and other water plants. The place was seething with Blue-tailed Damselflies (Ischnura elegans) together with rather fewer Common Blue Damselflies (Enallagma cyathigerum). Neither of these are prize wining shots but the pair of Common Blues was interesting because these show the male transferring a package of sperm to his secondary sex organ whilst grasping the female prior to mating.

It wasn’t all Odos, though, there were some highland cattle in a paddock beside the lakes. I’ve never seen one of their calves before but this furry little guy or gal must win the afternoon’s prize for cute. 😉